Constant Changes
by Nesserz
Summary: A Ginny centric fic centering on what changes Ginny has to deal with during the war.


A/N: None of the characters are mine - they all belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.

I hope you enjoy the following - it's not the way Iusually write but I'm quite pleased how it turned out. Let me know what you think, reviews are always welcome. )

-- Nesserz.

**Constant Changes**

Change is one of those things that everyone goes through, whether voluntarily or not. She knows she has to accept change, she knows that most things will change now. Things will never be how they once were. People will surely reminisce about the 'old days' – the old days that were only mere months ago. They will only be able to reminisce; they won't be able to go back. She knows it's a long way to go before that will happen though, a long way before anyone will be able to recall those memories fondly.

She knows they will never be the same – Harry, Ron and Hermione. They'll come back from the war completely changed. She's not sure how, but she knows they will. She resolves not to change – she wants to be the same for them to come home to – to show them not everything has to change. She knows it will though. It's not worth fighting.

The best she can do is be there for them when they do come home, because they will. She's never given thought to the fact that they won't. She knows others have, but she refuses to think things could continue without them. She knows that's the child's way of thinking and she hates being treated like a child but sometimes she allows her self to act like one. They've all been forced to grow up far too quickly anyway. Once in a while acting childish can't hurt.

The main reason she doesn't want to change though is because of Harry. He told her to never change, that she's the light, the humour in all of their lives. The constant. She's not sure what she thinks of being the constant. But she's going to put all her energy into being it. She thinks maybe it's not too bad. It's the least she could do.

The minute they leave everything changes. Friends, family, the people who should be sticking together turn against one another. She doesn't though. She goes about her studies the way she would have, had she been at Hogwarts. She practices the wand movements she needs to know to pass her exams, though she secretly practices the Defensive one's Harry taught her a few months back, just in case she needs them.

People go into hiding, and she's forced to do so too. She spends what feels like years holed up in a tiny room underground, lying down on a bed in a room that's so small she can't even stretch her arms out from her sides without scraping her knuckles on the walls. She hits her head on the ceiling, too.

It's always on her mind now that things are so very different than before they left. There's nothing else to think about when she's holed up on her own. She loses track of when it is day and when night comes – it's always black in there. Always. Never wavering, _never_ changing. She only has her thoughts to keep her company.

People can't communicate anymore – can't send owls to friends and family for fear of being found and killed. It is dark times and she knows this, but can't help wondering what it will be like after. After the war. She toys with what it will be like. She has to keep her memory active of she knows she'll go insane. She wonders too if the happy times they used to know will be referred to as 'before war'. She thinks they probably will. She thinks this is a shame though – the war shouldn't shape the way they live years later. It's such an ugly, horrible thing to be reminded of. Though she knows it will always be a fixture in their lives. Such a pivotal time – such a breeding ground for change. She hates it for that reason. She never was a big fan of change.

Several months pass and suddenly there is a change in the air, owls are flying again, she can see them through the crack in the wall by her bed. Her mother tells her it's a sign and she scoffs, asking what it could possibly mean, and her mother simply looks at her and speaks three words: "They're coming home."

She's not sure if she believes it – it's been too long. She's been too long in the dark, formulating reasons why they hadn't come back sooner. The girl that believed that they'd all come home without a scratch has been locked up in solitary for so long now – months she knows – and she's changed. The one thing she promised never to do, she's done. She feels guilty. Feels like she's betrayed them. She doesn't know what she'll say when she sees them. Doesn't know if she should say anything. Doesn't know if she can.

Soon enough though she's planning out conversations in her head which she'll have with them. Conversations in which Hermione will giggle with her over something silly Ron had done. Conversations in which Harry will say something utterly _Harry_. Conversations in which Ron will tell her about the exotic meals that they ate.

They do come home – her mother was right. Soon the sky is thick with Owls transporting the news to people – everyone knows it's over once and for all within a few hours and that they're coming home. She's the first one standing there on the stoop of the Burrow, it looking worse for wear after having been left for months. She walks towards them, cautiously.

She grins – the first real one she's achieved in months. They still look exactly the same. Harry still shuffles his feet as he walks, Hermione's posture is still perfect and Ron still ambles along, no hurry in the world. She can't help but skip towards them, though once she gets within hearing distance she hears their tired mumbles, voices she doesn't recognise. She cocks her head to the side, and stands there, feeling wrong – like she shouldn't be here.

They reach her and the four of them stare at one another for a very long time. She's trying to think of the perfect words – the right words to say after all this time. Ron beats her to it.

"What's for lunch, I'm starving,"

The other two laugh and she goggles at him – unable to think of the right reply. She almost clamps her hand over her mouth when she answers. "Make your own lunch; I'm not your mother."

Harry laughs. Actually laughs at her answer. He's certainly changed – he's laughing now. He never used to do that before they left, not to the extent where his eyes laughed too. She grins hesitantly at him.

"It's over, Ginny. Things will be different now," he says, putting an arm around her shoulders as the four of them walk back towards the Burrow.

"So everything will change?"

"It already has, and it hasn't made _you_ any different. You've grown accustomed to the change Ginny, we can all see that. It's only made you a better person. You're still our constant."

She smiles, walking between her brother and Harry, noticing Ron and Hermione's entwined hands. "Well, things are just constantly changing around here. I may never get used to it."

She toys with this in her mind. Never did it occur to her that the change could be for the better. The change during the war she'd experienced had all been bad. People turning against one another – those she loved and trusted not being able to support one another. She'd always associated change with the bad. Maybe she hadn't really changed, maybe Harry was right – maybe change really wasn't so bad after all.


End file.
